


I Never Meant to Fall in Love with You ~Drarry~

by imaklainer98



Category: Drarry - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: DracoxHarry - Freeform, Drarry, F/M, M/M, drarry fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:57:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaklainer98/pseuds/imaklainer98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Lucius Malfoy had never meant to fall in love with anyone. That was, until he met Harry James Potter at Madame Malkins before the start of their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After that, he found himself enthralled with the 'boy who lived' and everything about him. But, Harry didn't know that Draco had feelings for him because truth be told, the blond-haired Slytherin actually wasn't very nice to him and was often picking fights with the other boy and tossing him against the school walls. You see, Draco couldn't deal with the fact that he was falling for the boy who was supposed to be his enemy, his arch nemesis, and so he bullied the hell out of Potter, thinking that would change his perspective of him. But, of course, it only made Draco realize he loved the stupid boy, more. <br/>But, this story isn't necessarily about the eventual outcome of their relationship. Rather, it's about how they got to where they are, now. <br/>It's a story about learning to embrace your feelings, even when you know the world may be against you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. {Prologue}

**Author's Note:**

> AN: My first #Drarry! That's right peeps I'm shipping these two cuties, now! In my defence, I blame the Internet and well the fanfics...  
> Anyway, just so you know, I haven't actually read all of the HP books yet so this might not be very accurate but I wanted to try and write one nonetheless, despite there already being so many. So yeah, don't expect perfection from his one, cause it's my first really 'Harry Potter-related' story and all that...  
> That's all 4 now. 
> 
> Enjoy, friends! : )

To be honest, Harry isn't exactly sure how it all started.  
From the very moment he saw the blond Slytherin boy at that store in Diagon Alley, to the confrontations after that, the truth is, the Boy Who Lived still doesn't know when it all changed. When Draco Malfoy, his arch nemesis who annoyed and bullied him constantly, finally gave in to everything that he had been feeling and finally, with a definite amount of defiance, let go of his anger and hostility towards Harry Potter. Anyone could easily tell that it pained him to give up the act he'd been playing so startlingly well for so long, anyone who you could possibly ask, knew this and would tell you and anyone else who bothered to listen, that indeed it had been just as much of a burden for him to have, as it was to let go. Maybe, even a little more so. But, with the resignation of control over the dark-haired Gryffindor, came something, something so different and complex, that it was truly bizarre and difficult for anyone at Hogwarts and the like, to understand. Suddenly, it was as if the metaphorical clouds that had been gathering and clumping together in Draco's mind, had somehow surprisingly slowly started to clear. Leaving only the bright, shining light of the golden, glowing sun instead, with a distinct arc of colour trailing across it. A vivid array of light that seemed to burst through every fibre of his being, every time he caught Harry smiling at him. Sure, there were those who questioned his drastic change in demeanour, namely the other Slytherins in his house and his own father. It was as if they couldn't accept the surmounting, new, apparent ideals within him, no matter how many times he begged them to listen. To understand how he felt. Harry's own friends were very much flabbergasted by Malfoy's actions and how he treated their friend now. Gone were the days of running in fear from Draco, as he darted across towards them, his dark, green, Slytherin robes flowing like murky, lake water, ominously behind him. Gone also were the days of seeking revenge on him, for screwing Harry up during a Quidditch match, or for calling Hermione 'mudblood'. No, now everything really seemed utterly different, in an eery unnerving sort of way. Now, Hermione and Ron didn't stress or worry about Harry being thrown against walls and being attacked. No, now they worried and stressed about Harry being pushed up against the walls of the school willingly, as Draco kissed him. Ravished him with all the emotions and undeniable love he could ever muster. They pretend to be okay with everything the way it now was, but the Chosen One knew that his friends always still feared for his safety, as well as his sanity. To them, it didn't make any sense why Harry would want to return Malfoy's actions, his unearthed feelings. To them, they considered their friend's reciprocation to be just as bad as anything formidable Draco could throw at him. Or do for that matter. But, it hadn't always been like this, with the Slytherin Prince literally head-over-heels in love with Harry. Doing everything and anything possible to show him how much he adored him. No, there'd been a time not too long ago actually, when they had hated each other with a deep, loathing passion and Draco Malfoy had made it his mission to make Harry's life a living definition of Hell. And that, you shall see, was a very dark, yet purposeful time, indeed...


	2. Chapter 2

"Oi, Harry! Wake up! We're gonna be late!", Ron Weasley yelled, as he launched a scarlet, red throw pillow from the common room at the still intently sleeping Gryffindor.  
It was around the middle of September and they had all been back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a little more than a month. Since returning to school, the temperatures outside had stayed fixated on summer conditions for a brief two weeks or so, before promptly deciding to pummel right into the crisper, chillier states of autumn. That had meant freezing often during Quidditch practices and many, many long nights huddled up in rich, warm, red blankets as they all sat by the grand fireplace in the common room.  
With things as they were, most of the Professors had decided to go a bit easier on their pupils, so that they all wouldn't die from frostbite or from frustration due to the cold draft that somehow still seemed to find its way into the great, majestic castle.  
Right now, was one of those times, where classes wouldn't start till much later in the day, when the Professors deemed the freezing cold temperatures would most likely subside. But, Ron wasn't going to wait much longer for his sleepy roommate and best friend to rouse, as he stood there in front of the bed, hopping from foot to foot, trying in haste to keep warm.  
"C'mon, Harry! I'm practically freezing! My toes are gonna break off!", he wailed, biting his lip to keep from shouting, as one of his completely numb toes made uneven contact with the wooden bed frame.  
"Bloody hell!", he exclaimed, immediately backing away from the offending object.  
At this, Harry started to stir, no doubt bothered by the ruckus and commotion before him.  
Slowly, he let out a tired yawn, as he stretched his limbs, using them to push him up and reluctantly off of the bed. He then with blurry, unclear vision reached out in front of him for his glasses, which should've been lying on his night table. When he didn't grasp the thick plastic underneath his fingertips he sighed aggravated, and repeated the action. Trying in haste to seek them out.  
Ron who was still staring a couple feet away from Harry, chuckled slightly at his friend's very apparent blindness, walked over carefully on his still frozen feet, and pushed the dark frames so that they were much more easier to grasp in his sleep-deprived state.  
Harry grabbed hold of his spectacles and muttered a 'thank you' to his friend, as he then put them on and stood up fully, his vision now clear as a newly polished mirror. He then stood there for several long moments with his arms loosely crossed, as he waited for his friend's apology. But, Ron never got the chance because just as he was about to open his mouth, in stormed a very flustered, yet surprisingly composed Hermione. Her dark eyes blazing as she approached Harry and Ron.  
"That-that, Malfoy", she hissed, not even bothering to brush a stray piece of dark hair out of her face.  
"I-I'm going to pulverize him!"  
"Why? What'd he do this time?!", demanded Ron, an unmistakable sneer appearing on his own face.  
Hermione shivered, but from the cold air or due to what happened, Harry wasn't sure. He was still standing over by his bed when she had barged in, but he now took a few cautious steps towards her, his expression full of worry and concern.  
"Yeah Herm, what'd he do?"  
Harry didn't particularly like how shallow and quiet his voice sounded, and from the glare she instantly shot back, neither did Hermione.  
"Wha-what did he do? What did he do?! I'll tell you what he did!", her voice was coming out strained now, as if she couldn't believe they didn't already know.  
"He-he embarrassed me in front of the whole entire school, that's what! Said I wasn't really a student because I came from a muggle upbringing and family! Then-then he said that I wasn't actually that smart and that all the Professors just took pity on me because of my disgraceful heritage!"  
"But, that's not true!", Ron interrupted, and Hermione nodded sadly, not daring to glance at them just yet.  
"I-I know but Malfoy actually got most of the other Profs to believe it. They're debating about lowering me to an easier curriculum all because of him!"  
At this, she promptly broke down into a fit of sobs and Ron was immediately beside her, trying to comfort her as Harry at last dared to speak, again.  
"So, if you don't mind me asking, where is the annoying prat, now?!", he asked, spitting out the last part, as if it were venom. And, in a way it kind of was, considering the fact that Malfoy belonged to the Slytherin house and all.  
Hermione hiccuped, obviously still distraught about what had all happened.  
"He-he said he was going to be out practicing at the Quidditch pitch after breakfast. If-if you leave now, you might catch him before he leaves the Great Hall."  
Harry nodded, but his expression was stern. Devoid of any sort of emotion, except for seething rage.  
"Very well. Ron, you stay here with Herm, I'm gonna go and see if I can have a little talk with Malfoy."  
With that, Harry stalked off towards his dresser looking for his school robes and Ron slowly led Hermione out of their room, so Harry could get properly dressed.  
After he was finally ready, he grabbed a piece of parchment and a writing quill and angrily scrawled out a short note to his enemy.  
Malfoy,  
I suggest that for your own good that you go and tell those Professors that you weren't serious about Hermione taking lower classes and apologize to her in person, otherwise I'll have no choice but to meet you in person, myself. And believe me, it won't be pretty if I do...  
-Potter  
Then, he opened up the window carefully, and tried not to freeze to death, as he angrily nudged Hedwig out, her snow-white wings immediately spreading open, as her downy feathers rustled soundlessly in the harsh wind. He waited until he could no longer see her soaring form anymore, before he shut the window firmly and walked out into the common room. Harry didn't acknowledge Ron or Hermione as he left, closing the portrait door with a loud bang behind him. Instead, he began his pursuit for the selfish, spoiled, Slytherin boy, who was about to wish that he hadn't messed with them. Or, at least that's what Harry hoped.  
As soon as he made it out of the castle, he sped up his pace even more, the Quidditch pitch soon in view. And, flying carelessly around on his broomstick, his dark, green, Slytherin robes flapping haphazardly about him in the wind, a contented smile plastered on his face, was Draco Malfoy.  
Harry stopped abruptly and watched the other boy's skilled flying for a moment, studying the way he controlled his broom, really without much thought at all. Finally, he remembered why he was here and took what he hoped was an intimidating step towards him. Draco just grinned at his enemy's false determination and then laughed, the sound highly irritating to Harry's ears, as the wind seemed to bash against them roughly, in the dense cold, causing them to turn a bright reddish colour. Taking a deep breath and staring straight ahead at the Slytherin, he yelled out into the open air, his voice as harsh as the cold, blowing winds as he spoke.  
"Malfoy, you better get on down here this bloody instant!"  
At first, Draco pretended not to hear Harry's shouts, and instead circled the pitch once again, his pale fingers clasped firmly around his broomstick. He gazed down briefly to laugh aloud at Harry's frustrated spluttering and then turned his broom, so that he was facing away from the angry Gryffindor.  
So, feeling more than slightly agitated, Harry tried again to get the other boy's attention, hoping that they could turn talk things out.  
Oh, who was he kidding? That would only result in fighting.  
Still, it was better than giving up.  
"Malfoy, I'm warning you, if you don't get down here right now, than there's going to be trouble!"  
A taunting sneer passed over Draco's features and he gave the pathetic looking boy a questioning look.  
"Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do? Tell Dumbledore? Oh, I'm so scared!", he said in a mocking tone, laughing so much that he doubled over, almost falling off his broom.  
"MALFOY! I'M BLOODY SERIOUS!", Harry exclaimed, his hands curling into fists at his sides.  
He felt the scar on his forehead begin to pulse, a throbbing so intense that he knew if he didn't calm down soon he would most likely pass out.  
"Listen, just-just come on down here. We need to talk, Malfoy. It's about what you said to Hermione."  
That seemed to cause Draco to stop mid-flight and he just hovered in the air for a few, long moments, almost pondering Harry's words. Almost, as if he might agree. But then, he shook his head and glared down at Harry.  
"No, Potter. I will not come down just to reason with you. Besides, it's really none of your concern-"  
"It is my concern, Malfoy. Hermione's one of my best friends and she's really upset right now."  
"Oh, boo-hoo, poor Granger. The little mudblood can't even take a joke!"  
By now, Harry was enraged.  
"Don't call her that! Her name's Hermione and she's not a mudblood!"  
Draco just smirked, as if he found this argument with Harry to be very amusing.  
"Well, it's not like I knew that. After all, they're all the same to me. Once you've seen one mudblood, you've seen em' all."  
He laughed loudly again, no doubt finding his own brand of humour to be beyond hilarious.  
Harry didn't bother saying anything for a while, just stood there and tried to think of a possible comeback to Malfoy's. But finally, he gave up, sighing defeatedly, because his mind couldn't seem to conjure anything up that he hadn't already used before.  
At long last, he spoke, putting up a hand to show that he was done with their pointless arguing.  
"Look Malfoy, I'm just going to go now. I'm done trying to talk sense into you for one day. I know you won't do it, but you really, really should apologize to Hermione. She really does deserve an apology, Draco."  
More silence and Harry finally decided to leave. Feeling like there would really be no point in drawing out the matter any further, if no one was even going to listen. And so, he began the trek back to the school, his heart heavy for the Hermione and how she must be feeling now that Draco had at last seemed to finally make her crack and break down, once and for all. 

~~~

As he fixed his angry, silver-grey eyes on the exact spot where Harry had just been standing, Draco Malfoy felt his gaze penetrating the ground to the point it might actually crumble apart and collapse into itself. Slowly, he loosed what he could only have hoped was a calming breath of air into the chill around him and watched listlessly as the puff of hot air immediately got caught in the hold of the harsh, whipping winds that were rattling the nearby trees, causing it to vanish within mere seconds. The blond-haired Slytherin sighed again, causing another gust of his breath to be whirled up into the dark, ominous cloud-cover, certain that even one more ounce of unnecessary moisture would cause the skies to burst open, letting forth a torrent of blistering, white snow. No doubt, it would then stay for many days, months even, and everyone (his own house, included), would wish that they had all abandoned him long ago. But, even if that had been the case, he wouldn't really have cared so much. It wasn't like the matter of a torrential snowfall was going to change things in the way he viewed Potter. No, it definitely would take a whole lot more than some pathetic form of precipitation brought on by the cold weather. Most definitely.  
At long last, Draco descended back down to the ground below, his broomstick shaking unsteadily in the unforgiving winds. He carefully landed and then just as cautiously dismounted, his fingertips almost frozen despite being shrouded by his thin, black, woollen gloves. Then, without even bothering to risk a glance back at the Quidditch pitch where he had just been, Draco set off in the direction of the unnerving, yet at the same time, very much welcoming castle, strands of his platinum hair sticking up ever so slightly from his flight. The mere shimmering strands appearing as if they were coils of light, rather then hair. Angrily, he used an almost completely numb hand to pat them back into place, but to no avail would they cooperate, due to the fact that the tendrils of wind kept batting them about, like a kitten would a ball of knitting yarn. Finally, with another sigh that now sounded almost defeated, he pushed onward towards the glowing lights of Hogwarts, his boots crunching softly on the frozen grass.  
It was then that Harry's last words before he left floated across his mind, as they then just as quickly found themselves caught in one of the many cogs of the Slytherin's never ceasing to function brain, causing him to pause rather suddenly, his feet becoming firmly planted, practically glued to the surface.  
She really does deserve an apology, Draco...  
Was what Harry had said right before he had left the Quidditch pitch, leaving the other to go about his flying without any more interferences.  
But, what had he meant? Clearly, he meant that the other boy should go and beg for Hermione's forgiveness, but was that all he had told him?  
After all, Harry hadn't just said it the way he always did, with malice and hatred attached to every syllable. No, he'd said the words to Malfoy, as if they were an option of sorts, something that he could choose to act on, should the spirit move him to do so. Also, there was the way he'd ended that simple, yet still so conflicting sentence, the tone almost seeming to become less forced and more soft spoken, polite even.  
At this, Draco laughed. Harry Potter...polite? That was hilarious. So, maybe in general he was with his friends, but definitely not to his arch nemesis. Right?  
No. Of course he wasn't. Potter wasn't being polite, he was being civil. Something he knew Draco could never achieve during their bouts of fighting and arguing. Something he did not want to achieve due to the very fear of losing his academic and social status.  
Yes. That was indeed the very reason. There was no other besides that.  
To confirm the thought, the blond-haired Slytherin chuckled haughtily, clearly displaying to anyone who was around, that he was not going to stoop to the same level as Harry James Potter, and neither should anyone else.  
He was still chuckling as he walked through the large doors, the sudden surge of a welcoming blast of heat immediately hitting him, but started to dwindle to a less balmy air and then diminish entirely by the time he had finally made it to the dungeon area of the vast school, and then over to where the Slytherin common room was housed. After getting through, he slowly walked towards his room on the far side, only to be stopped mid-step by a sudden, female voice.  
"There you are, Drake. So, tell me, how was the flying today? I'm practically dying to know!", Pansy Parkinson said, as she hurriedly got up from the dark green couch by the immaculate fireplace, to go give her fellow house member a warm welcome.  
"Merlin Pansy, not again.", Draco whined, trying to push her away from him, she that she wasn't smothering him anymore.  
"And, to say the least it was well...adequate."  
Pansy gave him a knowing look, as if she knew something was up and Draco was keeping it from her.  
"Adequate, you say? Just...adequate? I would've thought that a broom ride would be much more to you than well, adequate. But, if you say so.", she replied, a mischievous grin spread across her face, causing her expression to become suddenly beyond creepy. And, that was definitely saying a lot considering Pansy Parkinson was also from the Slytherin house.  
But, the blond-haired boy didn't bother to respond to her boarder line teasing and instead pushed pass her swiftly, his dark, green robes trailing in the chilly air behind him as he walked over to the equally as dark of a green, couch. Then, he simply took a long moment to survey the area around him, so he wouldn't have to say anything more, just yet. This only caused Pansy to retreat quickly over to Draco, plunking down next to him happily, as she brought up a hand to stroke his amazingly soft hair.  
Without so much as a low, deep growl, Draco swatted her hand away and angrily stood up, already sensing that a few of the strands were now sticking up. He patted them down and started to walk away from her, causing his boots on the hard, rough, cold stone beneath, to produce a very evident clacking sound that immediately caused Pansy Parkinson to glance up from the couch, her eyes watery, practically on the verge of letting forth a flood of frustrated tears.  
"Why-why won't you tell me what's wrong?", she begged, her expression so full of worry for her friend, that Draco couldn't help but stop suddenly.  
"Why must you be like this? Always refusing to tell me anything! I'm your friend Draco, and I know that if you only would let me, then I could help you. But, you won't. You'd rather do it all on your own. You're stubborn, and won't let anyone else in when you clearly need them!"  
The fellow Slytherin didn't speak at all as his friend yelled at him, as she pleaded with him to open up to her. Instead, Draco Malfoy kept his gaze firmly locked on the floor and the jagged pieces of large grey stone that made up the hallway leading to the dungeons.  
What was he supposed to say to Pansy? Tell her the truth? How just the very act of his name, his actual name, passing through Potter's lips caused him to become distraught for really no such reason at all? No. He couldn't tell her that. Never that. Draco swore to himself that he'd rather die first, then tell her something so personal. Something that made him so very...vulnerable. Something that was sure to change everything he'd ever known to be true. His morals and values, family and friends...  
He stopped those thoughts, like one would a freight train going much too fast to the point it may crash or go off the rails. Hoping against hope that Pansy would decide to just let the matter go and he could escape from her presence, her knowing looks, with whatever sanity remained within him.  
She didn't yell after him again as he resumed his walk towards his room, and so Draco took this as a good sign that she'd at last given up and ran for the door, flinging it open and immediately falling down onto his bed. He didn't even bother to see if he'd fully closed it or closed it at all, before he gently let the thoughts swirling in his head make themselves known once again, his silver-grey eyes slowly drifting closed, while his cold yet at the same time way too clammy hands found purchase in his bedcovers. His blunt fingernails digging ever so slightly into the silky, dark, green fabric, as he let himself think of the angry boy at the Quidditch pitch earlier today, and how alluring and captivating a emerald green his eyes were, even behind those ugly, bottle cap-rimmed frames. And so, that's why it was no surprise at all, when only barely ten minutes later, Draco finally fell asleep. His thoughts fuelling his dreams, the dreams that he knew deep down would never be a reality, but found himself wishing for them to be, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the morning seemed to drag on, inching slowly along, like a caterpillar would on a leaf or patch of green grass. With great, exhausting effort, Harry focused on listening to Professor Snape as he talked about different sorts of potions, a vial of bubbling, shiny liquid in his hand to further prove the point.  
"Now this class, this is what is called a polyjuice potion. Who can tell me what it does?", he asked in an almost bored tone, as his dark eyes surveyed the room and then sighed when he saw only the unmistakable hand of Hermione Granger's shoot immediately up. In an even more bored tone he nodded absently in her direction and the girl practically beamed with excitement.  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
Hermione slowly opened her mouth to speak, but was suddenly and rather very rudely interrupted by the arrogant, annoying voice of Draco Malfoy.  
"It's a disguise of sorts. Transforms a person into another when consumed. Has little to no side-effects."  
Snape actually looked surprised and nodded, glad that someone else for once had answered a question. But, Hermione was not so amused as she turned slowly in her seat to lock eyes with the blond Slytherin, pinning him with a death glare.  
"Excellent Mister Malfoy, ten points to Slytherin!"  
"What?!", Hermione practically yelled, her gaze instantly back on Snape.  
"But-but, he stole my question! You asked me to answer it!"  
Professor Snape just shook his head and sighed. Clearly, he wished that he'd stayed in bed today instead of actually getting up. Especially, for something such as this.  
"No Miss Granger, I believe you are mistaken. I asked anyone who could tell me the answer and you were willing to, but I am afraid Mister Malfoy beat you to it."  
If Severus really did look upset or sympathize with her about her current situation, he didn't bother to show so. Instead, he addressed the class once more, explaining what their upcoming project was going to be on, and what they would need to complete all it's necessary aspects.  
"You will be working in pairs. Of which I shall assign. There is to be no switching nor complaining and if you have an issue with it, you may bring it up with Professor McGonagall. Is that clear?"  
Every pupil in the class reluctantly nodded their heads as Snape sighed, content.  
"Now then, in no specific order, here are your pairs."  
There was a long pause as he pulled out a tawny-coloured, rolled-up scroll of parchment and began to read off each one, not even stopping when he heard the sounds of inevitable groans.  
Ron Weasley glanced over at Hermione and both waited to see if Snape would pair them together or make them work apart with other people.  
Oh well, Ron thought.  
At least then maybe I can work with Harry...  
But, somehow Draco's participation in Potions class must've helped Snape's mood because he ended up reading off their names next, one after the other.  
"Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger."  
Both smiled at each other happily and Ron mentally fist-pumped the air in sudden victory.  
Then, they both looked over at their friend just as the professor called his name.  
"Harry Potter and..."  
The Gryffindor boy waited, on the edge of his seat, as he watched Snape's pale lips form the rest of the sentence.  
"Draco Malfoy."  
At once, all around him, it suddenly seemed to go blank. Harry's mind became completely devoid of anything and he felt like he might throw up or even faint.  
Maybe I heard that wrong, Harry thought. Silently agreeing that yes he definitely heard that wrong.  
Finally, Harry found his breath again and spoke.  
"C-can you repeat that?"  
Practically grinning at the flustered boy, Snape let the name pass his lips again and Harry knew he hadn't been joking the first time. Then, he said it again, as if he were trying to firmly solidify the very essence of that cursed name into Harry's mind.  
"Draco. Malfoy."  
Harry felt himself shake violently in his seat, uncertain of his movements and hoping against hope that it was convulsion. That way, he could leave and go to Madame Pomfrey's and not have to deal with this horrifying reality, anymore.  
He tried to hoist himself up from his chair and wobbled slightly, his legs feeling almost as if they were enchanted to become the very consistency of jelly. His chair screeched against the hard floor as he hastily pushed it in, walking decidedly over to Professor Snape's desk.  
"I-i can't work with Malfoy, sir. He'll kill me!"  
Severus just studied his student, his gaze calculating. Mocking.  
At last he loosed a breath and stood up from his own chair, not bothering to push it back as he came around to the front where Harry stood, his feet firmly planted on the floor, and turned slightly, so that he was eyeing the blond-haired Slytherin.  
"Is this true?", he asked, similar in the way that one might ask someone something if they are more than disbelieving.  
Draco flashed his professor a grin and smirked.  
"Of course not, Professor. Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, even if I did, what kind of example would I be setting for the others? I can assure you, I have no such intentions in hurting Potter, let alone killing him."  
Snape seemed satisfied by this response because he turned to face Harry once more.  
"Now then, Mister Malfoy has said that he won't kill you, Mister Potter. Well that is, if you stay up to date on your studies and don't get him a failing grade."  
A few Slytherins in the back row laughed at this and Draco eyed them with a stern glare, silencing the lot of them almost immediately.  
"So, will you be willing to cooperate with those terms, Mister Potter? Or, do I have to send you to Professor McGonagall?"  
Harry swallowed down the rising wad of bile and fear in his throat and attempted to nod, slowly. Snape then let out a long sigh and turned back to his list, dismissing Harry back to his seat as he finished reading off the names in the selected pairs. Then, feeling very bored and tired of teaching for the morning, he dismissed them all from his presence, watching rather listlessly with a melancholy expression as each of them left, happy smiles adorning their faces as they began to chat incessantly with their friends.  
He himself was about ready to lock up his class room for the whole rest of the day, when a familiar looking boy with platinum blond hair and silver-grey eyes cautiously strode over to his desk. Snape watched as Draco fiddled with his Slytherin tie nervously before finally getting the courage to speak.  
"I-I just wanted to thank you...you know for letting me work in a pair with Potter this time. It-it really means a lot to me Professor, and I hope something good can come out of it."  
Severus gave Draco the faintest of smiles, a mere upturning of his lips.  
"You do not have to thank me. Trust me when I say, I've known about your interest in him for some time now and I want to do everything that I can to see you happy. You are after all, one of my prized pupils, Draco."  
Heat seemed to surge into the boy's cheeks at Snape's surprisingly kind words and he somehow stuttered out a semi-coherent reply before he then disappeared out the door. Becoming a faint, dark green blur amidst all of the other colours of robes. Golden yellows, scarlet reds, royal blues, and of course more dark greens.  
Snape couldn't help but smile slightly as he thought of Draco in the hall, no doubt searching for Potter so that they could get a head start on their polyjuice experimentation project.  
"Ah yes, the rise of young love is indeed a blissful, wonderful thing,", he thought, as he subconsciously slipped the scroll back into his ebony robes. Then, he frowned sadly as he thought of how terrible and corrupt such an emotion could be if not reciprocated.  
"But the fall, is more poisonous then any foul sting."  
Secretly, he could only hope that in Draco's future there was some sort of happy ending, instead of the harsh, cold truth that seemed to savage Snape every single day with its brutality and realness to the point that it was almost surreal, a dull ache in his chest cavity that would never again be filled. 

~~~

Harry was having a difficult time figuring out just how exactly to comprehend Malfoy's motives.  
Ever since he'd left Potions class earlier that morning, he'd had an almost uncanny premonition that seemed to signify the presence of someone behind him. But, of course, every time he had turned to glance back, said individual with platinum-coloured hair and silver-grey eyes hadn't been the one to cast a glance back. No. It had just ended up being Ron and Hermione who stared worriedly at him. No doubt, they'd been trailing him ever since first class had without warning been dismissed. An unusually nice yet strange and unheard of gesture on Snape's part. Now, as Harry glanced back over at his friends for what felt like the billionth time in less than an hour, he caught their concerned looks once more, but quickly felt his sight shift rather suddenly to a flash of pale blond as it retreated almost instantaneously, not daring to stop even for a brief moment.  
Harry knew who it was automatically as if by instinct or really just by common familiarity. He frowned slightly at the the area where Draco had been only seconds before. Then, he stopped as he felt a tight grip on his shoulder and someone push him roughly so that he was forced to turn around and face them. But, who he saw standing there, wasn't who he had expected.  
"Harry! It's so good to see you! I wasn't sure if I'd get a chance to because I knew you would probably be too busy to see me, but I guess not considering you're just standing in the hall. Tell me, why is that? What's got you all...tense?", Ginny Weasley said all in a rush as she eyed her long-time, major crush now boyfriend, suspiciously.  
"You weren't cheating on me with Cho, were you?"  
The Gryffindor swallowed nervously and shook his head. Ginny could be intimidating when she wanted to be.  
Ron gave his sister an exasperated look.  
"Gin, I don't think Harry would ever even dream of cheating on you. Especially, with Cho.", he added, hoping that she'd just drop the matter altogether.  
Ginny grinned at her older brother and gave a him a nod of agreement.  
"You're right, Ronald. After all, even if he did, he'd never find someone as pretty as me."  
This statement caused nearly all of them to laugh except for Harry. He was staring at the spot in the hall near the far wall where Malfoy had been, again.  
Why the hell is he following me? Is it about the potions experiment we have to complete together for Snape's class? Does he think I'll chicken out of it or something?  
Harry shook his head, attempting to clear the thoughts he was having. Then, he slowly found himself walking away from his friends and Ginny, and didn't even seem to notice how far he'd gotten, until Hermione yelled across the hall at him, her tone filled with a combination of concern and anger.  
"Harry, where are you going?! Aren't you going to Transfiguration class with us?"  
He nodded, but then reconsidered and shook his head, dark hair falling into his eyes as he brought up a hand to brush it away.  
"No, uh look I'll meet you guys there. Um, there's just something I need to take care of first."  
It hadn't been a complete lie.  
Harry desperately needed to have a word with Malfoy. You know, to settle things at least so that they could work together on the assignment without erupting into bouts of bickering.  
Hermione gave a defeated sigh but didn't try to stop Harry as he disappeared down the hall, going in the opposite direction, just turned on her heel and walked off with Ron and Ginny.  
When Harry was certain that he wasn't being trailed by his friends anymore, he ducked into an alcove near where the potions class was and waited for the distinct rustle of Hogwarts robes that signalled Malfoy's close proximity.  
He didn't have to wait long.  
"Malfoy? Malfoy, is that you?"  
There was silence, but he knew that the other boy was simply just holding in a breath.  
"Malfoy, quit the games. We need to talk.", Harry said, hoping his voice sounded stern enough so that the blond-haired Slytherin might be intimidated by it.  
He wasn't.  
"Potter? What brings you to my side of the tracks? Looking for another excuse to go to your next class with a bloody lip? Or, maybe a black eye? You know that that's pretty much the closest to talking that I do when it involves the likes of you. Now, tell me why you think it's so vital that I speak to you? Couldn't we just do this the way we always do?"  
Harry bit his lip, already feeling the sting of pain that would soon pulse through it with a throbbing ache once Malfoy attacked him. He subconsciously touched the right side of his glasses' lens and tried to imagine how it would hinder him walking about Hogwarts with a shiner, causing him to no doubt trip over things and run into them, repeatedly. He also pictured Malfoy laughing hysterically at the trouble he'd caused Harry and that for some reason, seemed to bother him most of all. Being injured by his enemy was one thing. Being humiliated by his enemy was quite another.  
Finally, Harry shook his head.  
"No Malfoy, I am not letting you do everything for this project and then me not getting any credit for it. We need to work together. Not on our own."  
Draco suddenly smirked at Harry's words.  
"So, you think we should work together, Potter? Huh, I never expected you of all people to suggest that. Interesting."  
Gritting his teeth, Harry hissed out a breath.  
"Watch it you, prat. I have a girlfriend."  
This only caused the other boy to laugh, the sound more cold and harsh then the day's current weather. Draco fixed his rival with a long, yet calculating gaze, as if he were trying to figure out what Ginny saw in him. But really, Draco already knew what the Weaslette saw in Potter, and was actually trying to figure out what he saw in said boy. Of course, Harry didn't know that and wouldn't ever know that not if Draco had his way. Which he would.  
At long last, the Slytherin looked back up at the Gryffindor's alluring, emerald green eyes and waited for Harry to say something, anything that might break up the tension between them.  
But, when Harry did finally speak again, it wasn't anything really Draco wished to hear. At least, that's what his outer emotions portrayed anyway. His insides seemed to churn with another undecidedly more frightening almost suffocating emotion, one that made him want to rush back to his room and lock himself in there for the whole rest of the day.  
"Meet me in the library at 6:30 tonight after dinner. We can get started on the potions assignment, then.", Harry stated plainly, then walked off slowly toward his next class, not giving Draco a chance to form an actual reply.  
As he watched him go, the blond Slytherin sighed contentedly. His plan was slowly-very, very, very slowly falling together right in front of him and he really couldn't be happier with himself for thinking of it in the first place. He just hoped that it didn't end of backfiring on him and blowing up in his face, or Snape would most undoubtedly tell him he told him so, and Draco didn't wish to listen to any of that. So, without wasting anymore time, he headed off down the hall towards his own next class, finding himself practically skipping there. Something he knew his father would no doubt scold him for, if he found out. But, Draco could've cared less. He was in love with a boy, a boy from the Gryffindor house, a boy with unruly dark hair, a boy with majestic emerald eyes, a boy who happened to be the Chosen One, a boy who thought he was his enemy, and a boy who was too bloody blind to know what the truth was, much less where he put his glasses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Somehow, this story is already quite popular with you peeps on here! Wow. Just. Wow. Thanks SO much for the reads/hits and I hope y'all keep loving this story cause, Drarry is like my latest shipping obsession and I'm loving writing something about them! Gonna be continuing on with the HP books soon (starting with book 3!) and I can't wait! Hopefully, they'll inspire this story more and make it even better!  
> Anyway, that's all 4 now! 
> 
> Enjoy, friends! :D 
> 
> Update: I am now reading book 3 and of course am loving it so far! <3

Hermione's outlook on life was simple: if you worked hard at what needed to be attended to, then you could end up becoming an endless, inner vault of knowledge, one that could inevitably give you an advantage when dealing with others.  
That was why, as she mindlessly skimmed through a large, leather-bound volume, in search of the perfect revenge tactic to use against Malfoy, she didn't notice or sense her best friend's sudden presence until he coughed, abruptly breaking her from her array of wretched thoughts.  
The Gryffindor girl startled, stood up immediately from her seat in the castle library, the ominously, large tome dropping from her lap and onto the hard floor with a definite thumping sound. She then managed to cast an angry glare in Harry's direction before reaching down for the book, her pale, freezing fingers trembling from the intense draft as she tried to will them to grasp hold of it. But, when she kept dropping the dense volume repeatedly, causing several Ravenclaw students over at one particular shelf to eye her suspiciously, Hermione felt Harry's hand reach out to grab the spell book, his emerald, green eyes barely glancing at her's, as he slowly hoisted himself up.  
"T-thanks.", she stammered, no doubt ashamed that Harry had to see her like that. So vulnerable and unknowing.  
The Boy Who Lived just smiled slightly and then used a hand to wave it off as if it were simply nothing at all. Dismissing the matter, entirely.  
Finally, Hermione attempted to regain her calm exterior and gave Harry an inquiring look.  
If he noticed her sudden curiosity in why he was there, well then Harry refused to display such.  
"Care to explain what you're doing here, Harry? Shouldn't you still be at supper or something. I thought that for sure you'd most likely still be down at the Great Hall having some dessert at least. So, why are you here?"  
Harry didn't say anything, but he shifted his stack of books and papers that he apparently had been holding before and shrugged as if it were obvious by the contents in his arms. He then brought up at hand to brush a strand of dark, unruly hair out of his eyes, causing his grasp on his school books to loosen, one spontaneously dropping so that it hit the floor.  
"S-sorry.", he said quickly, as if he expected Hermione or even the Hogwarts librarian to reprimand him for such a thing. But, that wasn't what transpired at all.  
"Don't need to apologize. It happens to everyone.", the other Gryffindor told him, as she reached down to pick up Harry's spell book. Which was for potions class she immediately discovered as she took in the simple, yet worn gold lettering on the cover and spine.  
Interesting, she thought, suddenly feeling rather bemused.  
Harry must have noticed her gaze stop on the book, because he quickly thrust out a hand to retrieve it from her, his face appearing to redden slightly.  
"C-can I have that back, Mione?", he asked, his voice seeming to cut through the quietness that was the Hogwarts library as a loud squeak similar to the sound that Ron's pet rat Scabbers made.  
The Gryffindor girl looked at him, a small smile slowly turning up the corners of her mouth.  
She laughed softly, so as not to disturb others who were quietly studying around her, causing Harry's face to flush even more.  
"Only if you can explain what you're doing here in the library. Shouldn't you be off practicing Quidditch or something?"  
Hermione was glancing back at her friend's potions spell book in her hands, when the Chosen One finally managed a reply.  
"For your information, I'm meeting someone here and we're going to work on an assignment that Snape assigned us earlier today, together."  
"Severus?", Hermione inquired, not missing a beat.  
Harry sighed but gave a slight nod as he let his eyes become fixated on his book, on the way her fingers seemed to subconsciously tap against its leather-bound cover, rhythmically. He then loosed a relived breath, as she reluctantly at last, handed it back to him.  
"So, who is it that he's put you with this time? Luna again? Don't worry I'll talk to him and-"  
But, Hermione didn't get to finish as the Boy Who Lived suddenly placed a hand over her mouth, silencing her.  
For a moment, Harry's emerald, green eyes scanned the large room, as he tried to desperately seek out that flash of bright, blond he'd seen pass just then and stopped, the breath immediately leaving his lungs in what he guessed was sudden fear, as he finally spotted said individual sitting at a table alone, his long, pale fingers fiddling distractedly with a writing quill. Draco Malfoy was twirling the black-feathered quill back and forth between his fingers hurriedly, the shiny, ebony feather seeming to become only a dark blur standing out in stark contrast when compared with the pale, white skin of his hand. Slowly, as if he had realized with some certainty that Harry was watching him from across the room, he turned around in his chair, his silver-grey eyes darting about the space around him until at last they settled on Harry. And, maybe it was just the other boy's imagination acting up as usual, but he thought he saw the cold, hostile, harshness in Draco's eyes soften slightly. But perhaps, that had just been the dim lights illuminating the library, as the skies outside, still plagued with an endless, unmoving cloud-cover began to rapidly darken.  
Before he could ponder the matter any further though, Hermione broke away from his hold and turned angrily towards him, a hand poised against her hip as she gave him a confused yet bewildered look.  
"Mind explaining what that was all about?!", she demanded, beginning to tap her foot, her gaze still locked on her troubling friend.  
Harry thought briefly about dismissing the whole thing by saying to her that it was nothing, and that he had just thought that he had seen something outside by the window. Hedwig, perhaps? Yeah, that would be a valid reason. A valid excuse, hopefully...  
But, before he could even form the words, he heard the distinct sound of a chair screech across the floor, followed by the slightly heavy footfalls of someone as they slowly approached, and had just enough time to fully turn around before almost running into Draco Malfoy.  
"Blimey Potter, could you be any more daft?!", the blond-haired Slytherin exclaimed as he tried to regain his composure and kneeled down to fetch his own school books.  
Startled, Harry tried to think of something to say, anything but he found that it was as if his tongue had been swelled up suddenly and his mouth dry as parchment, preventing him from from saying anything at all.  
Draco didn't seem phased by this as he just gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes.  
"Honestly, you're the one who said you wanted to actually work. Work with me for that matter on this ridiculous experiment. So, are we, or are you just going to stand there with your mouth hanging open catching bloody flies all night?!"  
Hermione who had been stunned into silence, actually managed a slight giggle. The sound erupting from her throat as if by a sudden impulse.  
It took Harry a few more moments to finally speak, his voice wavering when he finally did.  
"N-no, I-I didn't expect you to actually show up so I figured I'd just do it myself or get help from Hermione-"  
"You-you didn't think I'd show up? Why ever bloody not?! Did you not take me seriously? Really Potter, believe me when I say, I don't like this arrangement anymore than you do, but Snape must want to mess with us, seeing as we are in fact supposed to work on this project together. So, let's just stop beating around the bloody bush about it and just bloody well get it done. Okay? Then, we can just go back to not getting along with each other again and at least he'll be happy because we managed to get the blasted thing done!"  
Malfoy's words seemed to cut through the quiet like a blade would a person's limbs, severing them, and his tone sending a sudden chill through Harry, far worst than the harsh, battering winds that were outside the safety of the castle.  
He risked a quick glance at his friend giving her an apologetic look, but Hermione wasn't looking at Harry anymore, rather her gaze was set on Draco as she seemed to shoot daggers at him with just a mere glare.  
"I suggest you stop that while you're ahead, Granger.", the Slytherin drawled, a smug smile slowly spreading across his face.  
Hermione's glare on him darkened, and the other Gryffindor swore he saw her face become a burning crimson that seemed to put the glowing embers of the fireplace in their common room to complete and utter shame.  
"And, if I don't, Malfoy?!", she spat, as if it disgusted her to say his name out loud in a room full of people, which it probably did. Especially, after what he did to her earlier that day, when he humiliated her in front of the entire student body.  
Hardly feeling even an ounce of intimidation, Draco grinned cheekily at her, his grey-toned eyes shining with an almost amused light to them.  
"I am not at all afraid of you, Granger. Why should I be? After all, you are nothing but a mudblood."  
Hermione's hands began to curl into fists and for a second, Harry actually suspected that she wouldn't hesitate to sock Malfoy right in the face, should he decide to keep up his little jibe with her.  
But then, he caught sight of Harry again, must have saw the unmasked fear apparent in the other boy's emerald eyes and just...stopped. It was almost like he just decided at last, that it wasn't worth his time to bother Hermione anymore, and slowly yet reluctantly she too gave a defeated sigh and dropped her hands to her sides, her fists instantly uncurling.  
None of them spoke for a long moment, as the sounds of other students around them began to buzz becoming a dull drone as finally Harry spoke, reaching out to grab his enemy by the arm as he quickly led him away from his friend before he could yell out any sort of protest.  
"C'mon Draco, let's go.", was all Harry said, as he felt the other boy stop again suddenly, staring back at the Gryffindor girl who was packing up her belongings, but before he could cause her to glare back up at him, he felt a slight, insistent tug on his arm, forcing him to drag his eyes away from her.  
"Draco please, let's just go.", Harry tried again, gripping the hand he was holding onto more firmly, hoping to cause his enemy some sort of pain by doing so.  
The blond-haired Slytherin didn't acknowledge him, but neither did he attempt to break free of Harry's grip as he pulled him out of the library and began walking bristly down the long hallway. Instead, he bit his lip hard till he felt the taste of blood in his mouth, somehow this willed him not to look back. 

~~~

"What gives, Potter?!", Draco suddenly demanded, slamming his potions book with a definite thud as he fixed a stern, ice-cold glare on the Gryffindor.  
Harry's eyes immediately shot up to look at Malfoy, startled, as he attempted to form a suitable reply to such a bold, daring question. He grabbed silken scarlet-red and snitch-gold fabric of his house tie, fingering the diagonal stripes on it, nervously.  
Draco gave an exasperated sigh and leaned over so that he could easily swipe Harry's textbook right off the table and send it to the floor, clattering onto the floor of the Astronomy Tower. But, the Chosen One stopped him, by slapping his much paler-toned hand away, a growl erupting from deep within his throat.  
"Bugger off! You might not be working, but I'm actually trying to get stuff done, Malfoy!"  
The blond-haired Slytherin sneered at him then let out a highly amused laugh.  
"Oh, really? Potter-Potter of all bloody people is trying to get his school work done so that he can be just like his stupid friends, always getting their work done and being good students? Well, I'm not buying it!"  
The Boy Who Lived just rolled his emerald, green eyes dramatically and waited for the other boy's ranting to end.  
"Maybe you think that I actually think you are working, but I don't! I don't bloody believe that for a second you are trying to actually get this stupid assignment done! I don't and you shouldn't either!"  
Harry wasn't sure when Malfoy was going to quit his rampage of endless rants, that seemed to pour out of the Slytherin much like an over-turned bottle of potion would, seeping out and poisoning the air around them with every mere moment. But, he could only hope that it'd be soon or he might actually end up missing curfew and losing dozens of points from his house for being so ignorant and tardy (courteously of Severus Snape, of course).  
So, he did the only logical thing he could think of just as Malfoy began yet another annoying tirade about how 'his father was going to hear about this' and that Harry'd better watch it or he was going to end up getting a whole lot more than what he initially bargained for.  
"I'm bloody serious, Potter! You refuse to cooperate and work on this project with me and I'll make sure to inform, Professor Snape!", Draco spat, knowing full well that the dark-haired Gryffindor stood no chance against a force as formidable as Severus. After all, everyone at Hogwarts pretty much knew by now that the Potions teacher despised the Potter boy.  
Harry didn't know how to form a good enough, feasible response to that and was still wracking his brain for one when suddenly he heard Malfoy push his chair back from the table with a loud screech that sent a chill right through him to his very inner core. Slowly, the blond Slytherin stood up and walked over to Harry so that he was looming over him, like a vulture would when getting prepared to launch an attack on its prey, only this attack wasn't particularly of that sort.  
Draco glared at Harry for a long moment, trying to put every ounce of pure and utter hatred he had for him, into said boy. Swallowing nervously, the Gryffindor tried in earnest to get up from his own chair and run to the tower's staircase to quickly flee, but Malfoy must've seen the flash of ulterior motive and unmasked panic in Harry's eyes, because he pushed the smaller boy backwards until his back made contact with the one of the tower's curved walls. Then, to make sure he couldn't possibly escape, Draco pressed one of his hands against the stone wall, his arm acting as a barricade to prevent the other from breaking free and running away. He then eyed the Chosen One, a smirk becoming evident as he saw Harry's look of frustrated rage.  
"Let me go! Malfoy, bloody hell, let me go or I'll tell McGonagall! I'm serious you prat, I don't have time for this, I have to-!"  
But, Harry didn't get a chance to finish because the blond-haired Slytherin slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his words and protests.  
With another deep now barely audible growl, the Gryffindor boy attempted to bite Draco's hand, hoping that the action would cause him to let go of him and he could run like mad until he reached the safety of the common room, again.  
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case it seemed, because even as he did manage to slightly grip the Slytherin's pale hand with his teeth, it wasn't a hard enough grip to have the other yelling out in pain. Instead, Draco had just angrily muttered 'ow' under his breath as he fought against Harry, desperately pressing more of his weight onto the Boy Who Lived, so that he couldn't even attempt to pry himself off the wall.  
"Malfoy, please, let me go!", Harry practically screamed out, his voice becoming raw and hoarse-sounding on the last syllable.  
"Please! I-I'm sorry if I didn't work hard enough! I'm sorry if I upset you! Just please-please let me go!", the dark-haired boy said, almost on the verge of tears.  
Draco paused in his actions for a moment.  
He hated when Potter cried. Especially, because of him. He hated it. Hated it more, much more even, than he hated himself for hating it.  
If Harry started crying then Draco would end up letting him go. His walls, the ones he worked so long and so hard to build up over years would all at once collapse in on themselves, taking whatever sanity he had, whatever hatred he had developed for the Gryffindor, with them.  
No, that wasn't an option. Not after all the many long, agonizing years he'd spent telling himself, forcing himself to believe he hated Potter. Not after he actually thought that at one time he actually had hated him. Or so, he'd told himself in order to actually sleep soundly at night...  
Now though, as he stared Harry down, with his one arm pressed firmly into the smooth stone holding him in place, his thoughts, the ones he so often had to force himself to banish, came back full force to the point he was near positive that the very shock he felt, could be evident on his face. Oh, the things he'd dreamed about doing to Potter. The many long nights he'd restlessly tossed and turned against his pillows, dreaming of something, some other, alternate reality he would never have. Could never have. It all boiled down to this moment, similar, much too similar to one he'd seen in his fantasies, his imagination, one that made his blood run cold much like the chilly night air in the tower, yet also ignited it, like someone had struck a match deep within him and it was continuously heating up his insides, setting them aflame. He couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't even bloody sleep right due to the existence, the mere, pathetic existence of Harry James Potter. All he could do was pretend to hate him and hurt him, because he wanted Harry to feel even just a glimpse of what he felt everyday, needed him to feel it so that the dull ache that ebbed steadily within him, might eventually completely diminish over time. And that, that would be-  
Draco stopped his train wreck of wretched thoughts hastily as he heard it. The sound of Potter's bitter resignation. The sound that only made him feel even more hollow, every time he caused it to happen.  
Potter was crying now. No crying was too calm and gentle a word for what had come over his 'enemy' right then. It was more like sobbing, an intense sobbing that wracked his body, causing him to burst into an onrush of angry, frustrated, terrified tears as his smaller frame shook against the effort. The inner hurt and pain he was trying so desperately to release. A sight so horrific, that Draco gave a long, deflated, utterly defeated sigh before dropping his hand from the wall, only to start to move it toward Potter's face so that he might wipe away the tear-stains very apparent on his flushed cheeks, and the glistening beginnings of the ones at his eyes. Those brilliant, beautiful green eyes that reminded Draco of the Granny Smith apples he adored so much. Only, Harry's were a shade darker than any apple he'd ever seen, yet seeing them brought the same rush of delighted glee to the Slytherin boy.  
"H-Harry?", he finally managed to get out, his voice sounding much to strained and horribly weak for his liking.  
The Gryffindor who was still sobbing bitterly didn't dare glance up at the Slytherin no longer towering over him, almost as if he were trying to avoid the other's stare. Instead, Harry angrily brought up a trembling, cold hand to wipe at his eyes, only to be stopped at the last moment, by someone else's reaching up to take its place.  
Startled, he drew in a shaky, overly terrified breath, as he felt the cool yet equally clammy touch of Malfoy's hand on his cheek, just below his eye.  
For a long time, Draco didn't move his hand at all that lay against Harry's flushed cheekbone, but when he eventually did, to his relief he heard the boy give a slow sigh that seemed to signify that he no longer thought the blond-haired Slytherin was going to punch his lights out.  
So, Draco gently continued to wipe the pads of his fingertips lightly against Potter's hot, flushed skin, slowly trailing them across his the dark hollow crescent beneath his eye, then even more gently over his small, dark, delicate lashes, causing Harry's eyes to both blink rapidly from the action. But, there was no possible way that he was going to terminate what was currently going on so easily. Not when he finally had Harry Potter right where he wanted him...  
And so, with that sudden resolve within him, Draco Malfoy took a shaky, forced breath of harsh, freezing air as he then ever so cautiously began to glide his pale fingertips down the planes of the Gryffindor's face, stopping at last when he felt the smooth, petal-soft brush of Harry's pale, pink lips (slightly parted in shock) underneath them. He then began to trace the outline of the smooth folds of skin slowly, taking great care in running them over the other's bottom lip, as he felt an equally smooth yet at the same time slightly wet touch beneath his lightly callused pads.  
It seemed that while he had been feeling Harry's lips and revelling in how incredibly soft they were, said boy had without much thought perhaps, stuck his tongue out, so that it was just barely visible through his semi-parted lips.  
Such an action seemed entirely unheard of for Harry to do in his 'enemy's' presence and therefore instantly startled Draco, so that he immediately realized what he had just been doing and what he had been about to do.  
Like lightning, he pulled his hand that was resting on Harry's petal-soft, pliant lips quickly away and tried in haste to stutter out some sort of acceptable apology before turning his eyes downcast to the tower's floor, so that he wouldn't dare see the horrible, sickening reaction he feared quite often he would see.  
Harry on the verge of breaking out into a fit of laughter, a mocking, taunting cackle that would no doubt echo throughout the Astronomy tower, slowly seeping into Hogwarts itself so that every student, every single one, would know the truth and laugh at Draco as well for being so bloody stupid. So, bloody naive...  
But, that wasn't what he discovered at all when he at last risked another glance up at the Boy Who Lived.  
No, it was nothing like that. Nothing like what he feared...  
Instead, despite it all, all that had happened just then, Harry was smiling. A smile that Draco swore would be his ultimate demise. His downfall.  
Harry's emerald, green eyes were bright with a light that was so uncanny to their current situation that the Slytherin found himself having a sudden, extreme need to breath, but being unable to. Almost like a dementor had stolen the very air he so desperately needed and was now devouring his very being the longer he stood there, staring into the brilliant green orbs, seemingly lost in a trance.  
Finally though, he broke eye contact with the Gryffindor and sighed as he saw that Harry was still smiling, no now it appeared to be more of a grin. Harry was grinning?  
"Potter, what are you smiling for? Shouldn't you be, I don't know...running away from me in fear? You know, like you always do?", his voice became sad almost, as he said the last part.  
A sound erupted at that from Harry, one that was more beautiful than anything Draco had ever heard before, truly music to his ears. One he would treasure always...  
Potter was laughing. The sound alight with happiness and a joy that was so overwhelming that not even Malfoy himself could drive it out, nor did he really want to. No, not when Harry's eyes shine with an almost utterly unearthly quality to them, with his head thrown back so that his unruly, dark locks fall haphazardly into his eyes, and the skin around them crinkles slightly almost as if mimicking the upturn of his lips.  
When he finally at last attempts to speak, it is with a confidence that Draco can't help but admit he finds dangerously arousing as he feels himself begin to tighten uncomfortably in regions below, causing him to moan out softly at the slowly rising pressure within.  
"No, not this time, Malfoy. Perhaps, not ever again, either."  
The blond-haired Slytherin curses inwardly at himself for being so easily excitable, as he then searches desperately for a reply to Harry's words.  
"But, w-why, P-Potter?", he manages to say, a slight stammer evident in his voice, as he quickly tried to will the hardness below beneath his dark, green robes, away.  
Harry's next words are stern, commanding.  
It's a side of the Chosen One that Draco's never had the intense pleasure of witnessing before.  
He actually ends up letting out a small whimper as he relishes in the intensity of them. The determination and stubborn will etched into every syllable...  
"P-Potter..."  
He's far gone, now. Not even caring anymore if Harry sees how vulnerable he is because of him.  
Truth be told, all Draco wants-no needs now is Harry's body up against his so that he can ravish him, touch him, caress him, until all that is left between them is a thin, silky sheet of cloth as they lay together. An intense aura of love, lust and desire permeating the room around them...  
But, such a thing doesn't turn out to be in the Slytherin's favour, as Harry finally quite suddenly snaps out of it all. The commanding, controlling exterior he had only mere moments before, falling as quickly as it went up. Now, he stands before the other with that confused yet oh-so adorable expression that Draco practically feels himself melt for every time.  
Slowly, he shakes his head and chuckles slightly, before attempting to wave at the blond-haired Slytherin, as he then begins to walk away. Slipping quietly out of the tower as he then hurriedly runs down the stairs and back towards his common room and to his bed, where he hopes to get some sort of rest tonight, if even barely due to the unnerving dreams of a certain boy from the Slytherin house that will somehow creep into his mind...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, I've been in a Drarry kinda mood lately and I've been sick in bed with a cold, which is why I decided to update this story. #sickday #fml #ugh #cantwait4christmas   
> Also, if you peeps want some good Drarry fanfic recs you should check out It's Not A Love Potion by: CrystalP734 and Catch-22 by: Jad fic. These are probs some of my new favourite fanfics with Harry & Draco (especially, INALP which I may or may not have stayed up until like 4:00 in the morning reading and also may or may not have read over again upon waking up...) So, it's safe 2 say that I really love it and the other one, too! The concepts are SO great and the stories are so good cause they like build up really well before hand. You can read both of these on Fanfiction.net. And, if you like those you should read one of my fav Drarry one-shots called: Mine by: SingingInTheShower (also on FF.net), cause it's got Jealous!Draco<3   
> Anyway, so that's about it, I'll let y'all get to readin' chapter 4 and shut up now, but I just HAD to tell you all about these AWESOME-SAUCE literary works incase any of you fellow Drarry-lovin' peeps hadn't read them, yet! 
> 
> Enjoy, friends! : )

For the whole rest of the day, Harry tries in earnest to avoid Draco Malfoy whenever he's permitted to do so. But, such a thing is pretty excruciatingly difficult when said blond happens to be in most of his classes and he was practically forced into completing a compulsory potions assignment with him.   
So, Harry spends most of the long hours waiting for the school day to finally be over, the tip of his writing quill caught between his teeth as he anxiously and subconsciously chews on it. If Malfoy noticed his 'enemy's' apprehension, then he does not bother to comment on it, rather he simply lets out a long, bored sigh and leans back in his seat, inevitably trying to block out Proffesor Snape's droning voice.   
Finally, at long last, Severus dismisses his students and hurriedly reminds them that their polyjuice experimentation projects will be due effective immediately early Monday morning.   
Not wasting another moment in the surprisingly stifling classroom, (despite the fact that there was only recently a heavy, torrential fall of blistering white snow just last night, the professor's potions room in the dungeons does not seem to be affected) Draco makes to get up from his desk, quickly grabbing his spell books and shoving them into his shoulder-bag. He doesn't even risk a glance over at the group of Gryffindors across the room, for fear of spotting Harry's undeniable look of horror and disgust. Instead, the blond-haired Slytherin cautiously darts over to the door and tries to become lost in a crowd of happily buzzing Ravenclaw students just outside in the corridor, as they talk animatedly about their upcoming project for 'History of Magic'. Draco just catches the excited hiss of one of them clad in dark blue, as they begin to go into a long-winded rambling session about how great it is that Professor Binn's chose to let them do book-reports on their favourite history book and the event in which it was about, from the wizarding world. He then shuddered as he thought of what no doubt Granger would do once she found out what their next project entailed. No doubt, she'd immediately drop everything else to go and get a head start on it. Typical Granger...  
Draco kept walking down the long, great, elaborate corridors until he could smell the familiar welcoming scent of dinner that seemed to escape in wafts through the Great Hall's large, ornate double-doors. He smiled slightly before pressing his hands firmly against the wooden doors and pushing through into the sudden commotion that was Hogwarts's Great Hall. Instantly, he was affronted with the intoxicating smells of meat, gravy, mashed potatoes, biscuits, tea, treacle tart, pumpkin juice and so much more that the spread completely covered the tables, save for a spot near the edge, a long strip that was adorned with plates, goblets and cutlery as well as different house-coloured napkins.   
Feeling as if he'd keel over if he didn't join them all soon and eat something, Malfoy walked swiftly over to his own house's table and took a seat between his two good friends Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, before reaching over to grab the platter of still-steaming turkey and heaping several large pieces of it onto his own gold plate. He saw Pansy give him a 'really?' look but just chuckled and picked up the gravy boat, pouring the scalding hot, light, tawny, brown liquid over his slabs of white flaky meat, causing Blaise to raise his eyebrows when he saw just how much was pooling off of the turkey and circling around the circumference of the plate itself. But, Draco refused to acknowledge his friends' startled expressions until he had finally managed to pile a little bit of everything on top of the turkey still drowning effectively in gravy, and when he had gotten Pansy to pass over the large, pitcher of pumpkin juice that was resting at the other end of their table, near Crabbe and Goyle.   
He regarded them all with a curious, bemused look as he then dug into his meal, taking great care not to accidentally let his silver-grey eyes flicker over to Potter.   
Potter...   
Draco stopped chewing the piece of soggy turkey he was eating and tried to hurriedly swallow, as he caught a glance of the offending boy and his offending housemates. They were all chatting excitedly about how great the food was tonight and how it was almost getting to that time of year again, when most would go home for the holidays, blah, blah, blah...  
The blond Slytherin sighed and tried to block out the sounds around him, the annoyingly, aggravating voice of Hermione Granger as she went on and on about seemingly pointless rubbish, while Ron (the blasted Weasel!) noisily chewed on a chicken leg as he regarded the Weaselette with an almost sickeningly vile love-sick expression. Draco knew most definitely, that it didn't take an expert Seer like Trelawney to figure out Ron's fortune, that was already inexplicably obvious. Well, to everyone but the two of them.   
And Harry, no Potter, Draco reminded himself. Potter was mindlessly listening to Longbottom as he relayed in great detail about his encounter with Snape earlier that day. The other Gryffindor seemed to nod offhandedly as if he found this conversation with Neville to be somewhat entertaining, and continued to pile in more mouthfuls of mashed potatoes and gravy, stopping only between to take small sips from his goblet of pumpkin juice.   
Draco didn't know why he bothered to watch Potter as he ate, didn't really care either. By fixating his gaze on The Boy Who Lived, he didn't dare have to look at his most likely utterly confused friends as he ate, bits of turkey ending up in his lap and small puddles of light brown gravy forming on the dark green tablecloth.   
~~~

The supper hour dragged on for longer than what Malfoy thought was usual and in the back of his mind, somewhere deep in the recesses of it, he knew he should probably say something to Pansy or Blaise, ask them about it to see if they knew why. But, he decided just to dismiss it as a mere fluke of luck and instead reached into a wicker basket on the table, extracted a still surprisingly hot tea biscuit and used it to sop of the remaining pool of gravy, before taking slow, tentative bites of it until there was only less than half of it left. Letting out a long sigh, he tossed the now soggy chunk of doughy substance back onto his plate and was just about to reach for the large, shimmering, gold platter filled with treacle tarts when-  
"Good evening students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it is I, Albus Dumbledore here to enlighten you on a few slightly imminent events and important prospects you should know about. I ask that you all please wait until I am done speaking, and then I shall let you carry on with your meal. Now then, first order of business to discuss, there will be no excursions into Hogsmeade this weekend, due to the fact that they are experiencing a horrible out break of some horrible illness that I do not wish to subject any of you to. We have our best healers working to figure out how to eradicate the outbreak, but for now we ask that all of you stay on school grounds until we hear otherwise. Also, you maybe have noticed that tonight's dinner hour has gone on sufficiently longer than usual, this is because as of tomorrow, we will be ending the term in order to break early for the impending holidays, due to the fact that the castle is now past the point of temperatures in which we can safely operate, without inflicting most everyone of you with a horrible case of hypothermia. We ask though that if you do intend on staying here over the school holiday, that you keep as much as possible to only the warmest parts of the school, such as your common rooms, in here, and the library. No student is to be permitted in the Astronomy Tower until warmer temperature set in, and if one of you is found to be purposely defiling that rule, then you will serve a 2 week detention with myself or Professor Snape and you will lose your Hogsmeade privileges for the rest of the season. Now then, before I call Professor McGonagall up to speak about another matter of import, are there any questions?"  
Everyone was silent as Dumbledore's eyes surveyed the room. Finally, after a few long moments he signed and said: "Very well. Professor McGonagall, you may proceed."  
And with that, the headmaster took his seat back at the dinner table with the rest of the Hogwarts teachers and staff and turned ever do slightly, his royal blue cloak falling over the bench in a flourish as he waited for his good friend to speak.   
Draco's head was still reeling with the knowledge that as of tomorrow he could go home, he could finally get out of this wretched place for a few weeks and not have to look at any of these annoying prats. That in itself, he thought. Was marvellous. Extraordinary.   
Minerva McGonagall got up from her seat and stood before the mass of students, as she cleared her throat.   
"Thank you Professor, now you're all probably wondering what it is that I've got planned for you. So, I won't bother with the suspense any longer. As you know, you all get the opportunity as of tomorrow to leave to go home to your families should you wish to do so, but I have just received news that due to the onslaught of snow we're supposed to be getting sometime before Sunday, the Ministry has decided to postpone the arrival of the Hogwarts Express to avoid any such conflicts, should they arise. Now, I know that the headmaster informed you all otherwise, but that was before I got an urgent owl from Cornelius Fudge himself about the dangers that would ensue, should we decide to go through with sending you all off, tomorrow. However, in light of these probably most catastrophic events, we here at Hogwarts gave decided to gather together and designate a new activity that we hope will eventually turn into a tradition, should it all go to plan. It was my great pleasure to inform you all that we will be instituting H.S.G.E. otherwise known as: Hogwarts Secret Gift Exchange. During which you all will be randomly given another person's name that will be anonymously owled to you and you will be responsible for acquiring a gift for them that will be presented to them on the final day before we break for the holidays. But, you will not be opening this gift from your from this unknown individual until Christmas Day, so those of you who do plan on staying here over the holidays, you will receive your gifts much later than those departing from us to go spend their Christmas, elsewhere. I hope that all of you have as much fun participating in this as we all did orchestrating it for you. On that note, I with you all a splendid Christmas and a happy new year. You may now recommence eating your meals.", McGonagall told them all, as she slowly stepped down from the podium to rejoin the other teachers and the headmaster, again.   
Harry was still trying to comprehend the exciting news about H.S.G.E. and all that it entailed. Curiously, he thought about who he would end being assigned and what he would get them. He only hoped that it would be someone he already knew tons about like one of his friends, so that he could easily get them something without too much thought.   
But then, Harry jolted in his seat beside Ron as yet another thought struck him, this one seemingly almost too horrible to ponder for long. Cautiously, he slid his eyes over to Malfoy but just as quickly flicked them away, when he caught the blond-haired Slytherin's menacing glare. Startled, The Chosen One subconsciously began to fiddle with his hands underneath the table and refused to glance up at anything or anyone else again, until he was certain that Draco Malfoy's retreating form was gone. Barely a dark green bluer as it vanished out of the Great Hall and back out the large, ornate, double-doors.   
Then, he took a relieved yet shaky breath and got up and started for the exit, not even hearing Hermione and Ron's protests as he dashed out, his heart suddenly seeming to rapidly pound against his ribcage with what he was certain was evident fear.


End file.
